An Act of Desperation
by molgor
Summary: There's a murder at Rosings, some suspects, a bloody letter opener and an investigator trying to solve the case!
1. Chapter 1

An Act of Desperation

This story will be like Pride and Prejudice meets Agatha Christie. There will be a murder with suspects ; each with their own motive. Like any good mystery I hope to keep you guessing; but don't worry this is an E & D pairing as well! The opening scene will be from the part in the 2005 movie when Elizabeth, having just learned from Colonel Fitzwilliam of Mr. Darcy's part in separating Mr. Bingley from Jane, runs across a bridge in the rain and comes to rest at a brick building only to have Mr. Darcy appear to make his proposal. That scene will be told from a completely different POV, however. If you have read any of my other stories you know that in the past I have been quick to update, however, the work I get paid to do is keeping me very busy at the moment, so I'm hoping to update once a week, hopefully on Saturdays. If I can eke out a chapter quicker than that I will, but I'm not promising anything.

As always, I'm not Jane Austen!

And one more side note-There will be two new characters that I will introduce, one in the first chapter and another later on; and now without further ado...

Chapter One-Pay Dirt

For all the many long years that Mr. Robert Mason had worked for Catherine DeBourgh, first as a mere assistant groundskeeper and more recently as the eyes and ears of all of Rosings and it's surrounding villages; he had never once saw the type of display that now presented itself to him. For, just a little ways up the lane, in the pouring rain, no less, was the formidable Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy looking quite like a lost puppy, eyes downcast and scowl firmly in place on his countenance. If Mr. Mason had not just personally witnessed the circumstances that lead to the gentleman's present mood, he would have been hard pressed to explain such a display. But witness it he most certainly did; and not only that, heard every word as he had crept along the side of the back of the building where the conversation, or perhaps, argument, as it were; had occurred.

Lady Catherine had made it quite worth his while to know what was going on at all times and to be suspicious of everyone. Certainly, when new folks came to Rosings, he made it his business to know what they were about; Miss Elizabeth Bennett had been no exception. In fact, Lady Catherine had made it a point to him to watch their newest visitor, for not only was she Charlotte Collins good friend, she was also Mr. Collin' cousin. She seemed an amiable woman to Mr. Mason, pretty though not overly so; she smiled often, laughed genuinely, all in all he could find no fault in her. She was an energetic lass, that was certain, he'd noticed her strolling about the grounds at all times of the morning, noon or early evening. Still, Lady Catherine seemed almost threatened by her for some reason, kept on him to continue to watch her. Had Mrs. DeBourgh seen a hint of the attachment that he now knew her nephew to have formed to her, he wondered? Snapping his thoughts back to what led up to this momentous occasion, he remembered watching her that very morning during Mr. Collin's sermon; She had been listening or perhaps, pretending to listen as most people were prone to do when it was Mr. Collins droning on and on; not many minutes passed and she was engaged in a conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam. He saw her face turn pale at whatever news the Colonel was relaying to her, Mr. Mason wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but from the looks of things, Miss Bennett was none too happy. She fairly bolted from the little church at the end of the service, and he managed to keep up with her, out of sight, of course. Even when it had started raining he had no choice but to continue to follow her even as she picked up her pace. He was gladdened to see her find cover under the overhang of a building nearby. He rested a few feet away from her, completely out of her range of vision. When Mr. Darcy materialized, seemingly out of nowhere, Mr. Mason was almost as surprised to hear his side of the conversation as Miss Bennet appeared to be. And what a conversation it was! Mr. Mason marveled at the words that Mr. Darcy spoke to the woman he professed to love!

For a country chit (for that is how Lady Catherine referred to Miss Bennett in her private conversations with Mr. Mason), the girl did not back down from the fiery exchange of words that transpired between she and Mr. Darcy. He knew of no other woman who could stand toe to toe with the man (if not in stature, certainly in courage), save perhaps the great Lady herself! He could only imagine the fury a man like Darcy would have that not only was she not accepting him, but was most certainly rejecting any sort of alliance with him; and, admitted that from the very beginning of their acquaintance, knew she would never accept an offer from him of any kind!

Had the circumstances been different, Mr. Mason might have given her credit for rejecting the man's poorly phrased suit, but it would not benefit him in Lady Catherine's esteem to do so; and he intended to milk this story for all it was worth. If he had to embellish it somewhat to make Miss Bennett look poorly, what was it to him? He cared not one whit what the outcome of such a tale as the one he would tell might be or who it would affect, quite in fact, he would deem that irrelevant, if he even considered such a thing at all. The only concern that Mr. Mason had was raising his worth and earning his compensation. And, as this story was the mother lode of all stories, he could not wait to share it with Lady Catherine.

As it turned out, Mr. Mason did not have to embellish much at all as Lady Catherine seemed predisposed to believe that Miss Bennet had somehow ensnared her nephew with her charms. Once he realized this, he began to tell the story truthfully.

"Your nephew offered his hand to her." was met with the reply of, "She lured him in, I will admit that she is somewhat attractive; if you like that wild look."

It was evident to her employee that Mr. Darcy must have liked the wild look indeed.

"She rejected his suit right away and seemed angry at him for even suggesting it!" he exclaimed.

"Nonsense; she wishes to dig her claws into him even further. It is deceit of the most acute kind! She understands that a man likes to pursue."

"Your nephew seemed to believe her, he was very angry."

"As he should be and as he has been with every woman thus far who has dared to throw themselves at him." Lady Catherine was getting highly agitated with each turn of her supposition to what Miss Bennett's true motives were. "He is engaged to my daughter, as you know, Mr. Mason."

Of course, he had heard this from her before; he saw no sign of regard other than cousinly affection between the two, however.

Lady Catherine rose from the settee on which she sat, and handed Mr. Mason a small satchel, which he knew would hold a handsome sum for the news he had brought to her.

"Please send a boy to the Collin's residence, I must speak to Miss Bennett at once!" She demanded from him as he took his leave.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Yay-I was able to churn another chapter out...mainly because this one was almost done anyway, can't say that about the next one, so don't expect it as quick. Also, it's going to take me a few chapters to get to the actual murder, I'd say at least two more after this one. And lastly, I tried to fix my errors (most notably spelling Bennet wrong, after I published Chapter 1, but even after saving them, they still appeared in the copy you read). Sorry about that! I did my best to let none escape me this time.

**Chapter 2-****Summoned to Rosings**

The last thing that Elizabeth Bennet felt like doing was visiting Rosings after the morning she had been subjected to endure; first there had been the eye opening conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam and then the jaw dropping encounter with Mr. Darcy. 'The nerve of that man,' she thought to herself bitterly. And now, when all she might favor to do was crawl under the covers and try to sleep her growing headache away, she received a call from one of Lady Catherine's errand boys informing her that she was wanted for a meeting with Mr. Darcy's aunt. Charlotte looked at her questioningly, but Lizzy had no idea why the Grand Dame of Rosings should want a private audience with her. The lad who stood before her at the moment and who appeared to be no more than fifteen she guessed, looked quite pensive and was out of breath; she supposed the matter was most urgent, or at least that Lady Catherine deigned it to be. Not wanting to get the boy in any sort of trouble, and desiring to get through this visit as quickly as possible that she might return to sleep the rest of the day away, she threw on a light coat (the rain had stopped thankfully, but there was a chill in the air) and was off.

"You can be of no loss, Miss Bennet, to know why I have called you here." Lady Catherine admonished, after Elizabeth had arrived and performed a perfunctionary curtsy.

"No, indeed your ladyship, I cannot account for it at all." Lizzy answered truthfully, noting the familiar look of disdain in the lady's eyes. However, if Mrs. DeBourgh meant to frighten her, she would receive no satisfaction for her efforts.

"A report of a most alarming nature has reached me. Do you deny, Miss Bennet, that you have attempted to ensare my nephew to offer his hand to you?"

Elizabeth looked at her, incredulously. "Has your nephew told you this?" she said, her voice raising as she said it.

"I would not embarrass him with such a scandalous tale; I notice that you do not deny the account." Lady Catherine replied, smugly. Gone was the condescension she prided herself on.

"Your nephew has made me an offer." Elizabeth allowed, managing somehow to keep her tone even; although quite apparently by the way her eyes were flashing with anger, her feelings on the matter were very close at hand. Her reply hung in the air, however, which suddenly felt enormously charged with animosity, although from which lady one could hardly tell. "But, since there is no affection on my side, I did not accept him." There, Lizzy thought to herself, that should put an end to_ this_ conversation.

She was mistaken.

"Do you not think, Miss Bennett, that I have seen your kind before?"

Lizzy said not a word in response, not that she was intimidated by any means, but rather that she was trying to remain all that was proper. She would stand her ground, but she feared if she spoke too soon, without giving thought to her words, that she might sink to a level she did not wish to go.

"Somehow you have bewitched my nephew; most probably with your youthful charms, your witty conversation, your come hither eyes. And then when he falls into your trap, you mean to lure him even further by rejecting him." Lady Catherine's icy blue eyes penetrated Lizzie's resolve or tried to, the insolent girl would not budge and it made the older woman angrier still.

Again, Lizzy said nothing. She could not help but to remember a similar recourse by Mr. Collins in his ill advised request for her hand, how he had understood delicate females to first say no, when really they meant yes. Lady Catherine paused and gave her guest the once over; scowling as she did so.

"You can not believe that all these vain attempts have not been devised against the men in this family before; but it is not to be borne!" Lady Catherine told her adamantly, and again, added, "You are of inferior birth Miss Bennet; you have no accomplishments, nothing to recommend you at all; and a mother who doesn't seem to care if all of her daughters are out at the same time. Why I have never heard of such a thing!"

It was the third time that very day that her family had been insulted by a member of Mr. Darcy's family (although she did not fault the Colonel as his insult had been second hand and inadvertant), and if Lizzy's resolve to remain silent was starting to give way; the final assault by Darcy's aunt would catapult it entirely.

"It will cease now, Miss Bennett, your ruse has been discovered." Lady Catherine stated. "You will never be welcome in this house again, do you understand me?" she asked, although did not give Lizzy a chance to answer, "You are a country chit with little if any connections, should the halls of Pemberley be thus polluted?" Lady Catherine stood then, raising to her full height which was a mite taller than Elizabeth. Her look was stern, her resolve steely; but if her intention was to see Lizzy cower, she would be disappointed.

" Your nephew offered to me, quite unbidden, but that is no significance to you-you choose to believe the worst of me. But I do not live on your opinion. As a matter of fact, I shall be glad to never enter this house; I shall dance all the way home knowing that I will never come here again. You may die and I won't mourn!" Lizzy said, all in one breath and quite defiantly.

With that, she quit the room and the house, (so relieved to be gone from all it's inhabitants that she failed to retrieve her coat); the relief caused her to release a breath she had not realized she had been holding; if Lady Catherine had thought that banning her from Rosings was punishment, she was sorely mistaken! She was glad she did not have to return there; and more so, that she would not have to see a certain gentleman who she was certain did not want to see her either. She knew she should be sorry for the words she had only just now said to the Mistress of the estate, and later, she would regret them very much, but for now, she felt lighter than she had all this cumbersome day. She almost felt like laughing, perhaps, she thought to herself, she had gone quite mad! So wrapped up in her own musings, she failed to notice what would not have been so extraordinary any way-the groundskeeper tending to a shrub under the window of the very room she had just been in with Lady Catherine. He looked up when she passed by him; noting to himself at the same time that it looked like rain again; he would have to remember to close the window from which only moments ago, he was able to hear every word that was spoken between the two ladies.

The lightness of her mood did not remove the pounding of her headache, and Lizzy was yet in no mood to return to the parsonage and answer Charlotte's questions and so, she decided to stroll through the park for awhile. As much as she would not miss the estate itself with it's overly ornate décor and stifling air; she would miss the lovely landscape. Whoever kept the flowers and shrubbery in fine order did a lovely job, she mused. After wandering about for almost an hour and a quarter, she had calmed down enough to go back to the cottage. She had much to think on and wanted to appear to her good friend no different than when she had last seen her. Upon entering, that same errand boy was standing in the parlor. 'Oh no, what now,' she wondered?. But he wasn't here for her this time, the message was for Mr. Collins, who looked agitated himself to be called away after the dinner hour. He wasn't a smart man by any means, but even he could tell that this was not a social call. Lizzie gave her excuses to Charlotte and went to her chambers without supper; knowing full well that her Mr. Collins was about to hear all about "her come hither looks and bewitching ways" that Lady Catherine, no doubt, would elaborate to him in due time.


	3. Chapter 3

Initially I was going to break this up into two chapters, but I'm getting impatient to get to the heart of the matter (lol), so I combined them. The first scene occurs after Lizzy leaves and while she is strolling around the gardens; and the second after Mr. Collins had been sent for.

Chapter 3-Conversations

Colonel Fitzwilliam knocked lightly on the door of his cousin's room and was met with silence; he knocked harder and this time, accompanied it with "Darcy, you in there?"

He heard rustling behind the door and then suddenly it opened. His cousin stood before him, his hair disheveled and with a countenance that Richard had never seen on him before; he looked quite disheartened. Richard knew his cousin to be livelier in private and disciplined in the midst of other people; he could not imagine what had brought this mood into existence. Knowing that what he had to say would not lighten his demeanor, he forged on with it anyway.

"Aunt wants to see you, she made it seem rather urgent, but you know how she is..." he told him, his words trailing off when he got no reaction from Fitzwilliam.

"She is in her private study; at least it should not take long, it is almost time for supper." Richard tried to sound more postive than he actually felt; the fact of the matter was, their aunt was quite irate. He was not sure that he had ever seen her so angry even after all the escapades and pranks he had pulled on her as a mere lad.

Darcy sighed and without so much as a word to his cousin, walked past him and quit the room. The Colonel, who had not been asked by his aunt to be part of this meeting, followed Fitzwilliam anyway, although at somewhat of a distance. When his cousin closed the door to the Rosings study behind him, Richard pretended to be looking at the miniatures that lined the hallway walls, lest a servant wonder why he was lurking about. Not that anyone would comment on it, not in his earshot at any rate; but the Colonel was feeling something strange in the air; a feeling of dread almost. Between his aunt's anger and his cousin's (he grappled with the right word for it for a moment), melancholy-yes that was it- something appeared amiss, he had no idea what it was, however.

Mr. Darcy was in no mood for whatever his Aunt was going to say; he hoped to make that clear with a stern look on his face, the one he generally reserved for people either beneath his station or ones he disliked. Unlike Miss Elizabeth's confusion as to why Lady Catherine would want an audience with her; Fitzwilliam knew it could be any number of distasteful topics that he was in danger of being lectured about. Number one was Anne and when he planned to let her announce their upcoming betrothal. Number two was about when he was going to bring Georgiana out in society.

She barely gave him a chance to sit down when she began, "Fitzwilliam, I have heard the most alarming news this afternoon!"

"And what would that be?"

She looked at him, narrowing her eyes and grimacing, "I understand you asked for Miss Bennet's hand."

Darcy nearly choked at the pronouncement, topic number three had just presented itself for something else he had no desire discuss, especially with his aunt.

"She is of inferior birth; but even if she were not; you are engaged to Anne." She said matter-of-factly with a determination that no argument would be broached against it. Darcy knew that he was somewhat to blame for her belief as he had never been adamant enough with his protests, but today this would change, he decided.

"I am not engaged to Anne." he said, flatly.

"This has been planned since your birth, your mother and I decided."

"You and you alone decided," he told her, "My mother you may leave out of this."

His aunt ignored him, "You would throw away the wishes of your deceased mother for a uneducated country girl?" Her look of disdain matched the tone of her voice.

"Miss Bennet did not accept my hand." The hurt he still felt at her rejection of his suit stung enough that the words sounded strangled as they left his mouth.

"You had no right to offer it to her anyway, what will Anne think?"

Darcy sighed, loudly. "You are not listening to me!" he said, his voice rising, "Anne and I are not getting married; I will marry for love or I will not marry at all!"

"Nonsense; you will marry Anne and two great houses will make for one even greater house. It is a match that is advantageous to both sides; there is no argument you can make against it." Lady Catherine replied smugly as she folded her arms in front of herself and stared at her nephew.

Already having nearly reached his boiling point in the conversation he and Miss Bennet had shared, Darcy knew he was very close to seriously lashing out at his Aunt; had she always been this stubborn, he wondered?

"I told her and I will tell you," his aunt said, interrupting his thoughts. Her who, he wondered, Anne?

"She is no longer welcome in this house, you will not be in contact with her again, do you understand me?" Lady Catherine was waiting for a reply; and finally it dawned on him who the "her" was.

"You spoke with Miss Elizabeth?" he practically shouted, feeling a sudden humiliation wash over him that one of his relations had exposed herself to Miss Bennet, especially after he had pronounced her family all that was improper.

"I informed her that her kind was no longer wanted here."

"You had no right to do that!" The loudness of his voice made his words crystal clear to anyone who might be in the hall. His aunt's voice matched his in decibels, "This is my house, I may do as I see fit!"

"Then perhaps I shall never visit again here either," he said, defiantly.

Lady Catherine looked at her nephew, a look of disappointment showing on her face; "She really has ensnared you? You foolish boy, she is using her allurements to catch you; but once caught, you would be the laughingstock of the ton." Lady Catherine gloated. "Anne will not do that to you, she will be a perfect wife and will never be an embarrassment."

"We are not marrying; I don't want it and neither does she. You will never live to see it happen." He said one last time, doing everything in his power to regulate the volume of his voice. He threw open the study door and nearly ran straight into Richard and Anne, the former still waiting in the hall and the latter having just joined him on her way to supper.

"Hey Darce, you going to eat with us?" Richard called out to his cousin, who was already half way down the hall. If Fitzwilliam made a reply, no one heard him.

Fitzwilliam was not the only one to go without his supper at Rosings; Lady Catherine had Mr. Mason send the errand boy to get Mr. Collins and told her servants she was not to be disturbed for the rest of the evening, no exceptions. When the cook made it known that she wanted to send a meal to her, she got angry for the disturbance and nearly fired the woman on the spot. The rest of the servants stayed out of her way; for they had seen her in moods like this before and knew it would pass over in a few days, as it had done in the past.

Soon enough, Mr. Collins was being announced, and Lady Catherine hardly had the patience for him to give her a customary bow before she lit into him for his houseguest. He barely got a word in edgewise (and certainly had never practiced an assemblance of words that would be perfect for this occasion at any rate), she was spouting off with such vehemence; demanding from him the removal of Miss Bennet by morning. She paced a bit, and finally came to rest in front of her mahogany writing table where she produced a sealed letter.

"Do you know what this might be, Mr. Collins?"

Having no idea and having lost any desire to speak, he only shook his head. Even then he did it in a slight way, as not to inflame her further.

"It is a letter to a Mr. James Heathrow; he is the son of my former parson; he is looking for a living." she let the sentence hang in the air until Mr. Collins understood what she meant by it.

"If you do not get rid of our problem," she told him, "I will send this letter to him."

Mr. Collins blanched and tried to speak but only a raspy squeaking noise came out. Lady Catherine practically laughed at him,

"You may go; it has been a long day and I am tired now." With her hand she dismissed him and turned her back on him as she did so.

Mr. Collins let himself in his humble abode where his wife Charlotte sat waiting for him with a hopeful smile. He had grown to love her even if their union had been one initially of a mutual necessity; he hoped that her regard had grown and thought that it had until his cousin Lizzy had come to visit. His wife had been so happy to see her friend, they had spent many hours together, talking and enjoying each other's company. Frankly, he did not mind Lady Catherine's ultimatum, as it would mean that he would have Charlotte all to himself again.

"What did she want?" Charlotte asked him as he entered the room in which she sat.

"My cousin must leave." he blurted out in response.

"Why?" his wife exclaimed, looking quite alarmed.

"She has somehow attracted Mr. Darcy and taken his attention away from Anne. They are to marry, you know?"

Charlotte stood, and did not look happy as she did so, "I am not going to ask my friend to leave! She is a guest in my home."

Mr. Collin's might have lost his voice at Rosings, but he was not about to be ordered around by his wife.

"It is final. Lady Catherine wants her gone, so she will leave in the morning."

If Charlotte was taken aback by his sudden forceful demeanor she did not let on. Calmly she formed the words and executed them just as calmly, "If you make Lizzy leave, I will go with her."

Mr Collins showed no emotion at this proclamation of his wife. He had already suspected that Charlotte had realized how unhappy she had been with him, when spending time with his fair cousin had showed her how happy she could be without him, in comparison.

He hardly ever showed anger but in that instance he answered her with a curt, "you will do as you feel best," and walked away lest he felt the need to say more.


	4. Chapter 4

Lady Catherine was dead.

Her heart had received multiple wounds, although how many no one would ever know for sure; but it had been from a sharp object, perhaps a knife; perhaps not. Whatever it was, it was nowhere to be seen. Whoever had wielded it had made quite a mess, blood was everywhere, spatters were found feet away on a number of different objects-some blank papers; a table; a coat draped over a chair. Nothing was amiss otherwise, everything was in its place with the exception of Lady Catherine. She was sprawled across a divan; one might have thought she was sleeping except for all the blood, the fact that her eyes were wide open and her skin was cold to the touch.

Having ordered her servants the night before to not disturb her, none did, even when her usual time to retire came and went. Some assumed she fell asleep in the study, at any rate, none wanted to break the peaceful silence that had permeated the estate since the Mistress of Rosings had sequestered herself in that room. But, when morning broke, and her maid saw that Lady Catherine's bed had not been slept in; the head housekeeper was sent in whereupon the poor woman discovered the body.

Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy were awakened and told; and the local constable, an elderly man named Russell Coles, was sent for. The Colonel, who had witnessed many gruesome sights on the battlefield, handled the eventual visit to the study with his cousin and Mr. Coles far better than Darcy, who lost the contents of his stomach at the sight of so much blood surrounding their now deceased aunt. The constable had never seen such a grotesque display either; as his title had been mostly honorary and not because of any special skills in the area. The man's age was a concern to Richard and he told Darcy that they would need to hire a special investigator. All the color had drained out of Fitzwilliam's face upon news of their aunt's demise and seeing her in such a state of disarray had done nothing to improve upon it, frankly he could hardly speak from the shock. His thoughts traveled back to the day before and their argument; what had he said to her? She would never live to see a union between him and Anne? He cringed that the last words he would have said to her would be that; he searched his mind for some remembrance of affection either said by him or by her- and found he could not come up with such an occasion without going back to when he was a lad. He came every Easter holiday to spend time at Rosings but it had been out of sense of duty more than anything. He was shocked by the absence he felt of any grief or mourning, not that he was happy, but he was also not sad.

Lizzy had risen early and had started packing for her departure, which she knew to be iminent as she had overheard the argument that her friend and cousin had the night before. She had not wanted to be privy to such a conversation as that had been; but could not help to hear their voices as she slipped downstairs to see what bread or cake she might retrieve from the pantry since she had never eaten supper. She heard Charlotte's proclamation and was heartened by it; but she would never let her friend leave on her behalf. It was not only unheard of, it was all that was improper and she would not let Charlotte ruin her life because of her presence in a place where she was unwanted, and truth be told, save for the company of a most beloved friend, she had no desire to be.

Suddenly, Elizabeth heard a commotion coming from the parlor, some shouting and finally a scream. Just as suddenly, Charlotte appeared in her doorway, quite out of breath as if she had hurried to get there and before she had a chance to say anything, Mr. Collins appeared behind her.

"We are needed at Rosings at once! My esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine, has expired." he exclaimed.

A look of shock passed over Lizzy's face but she recovered long enough to answer him, "Sir I do not think it is our place to visit there presently; the family would not want it."

"You don't understand Lizzy," Charlotte answered before he had a chance to, "We are ordered to be there, by Constable Coles."

"I don't understand, why is the Constable there?" Lizzy felt herself getting increasingly agitated; going to Rosings at such a time would be highly improper and would not be well received by the family. Not to mention the fact that she herself had been banned from the premises and that Mr. Darcy surely did not desire her presence there.

"She didn't, that is to say..." Charlotte hesitated, not knowing how to impart what had happened, but her husband, finding his art of arranging pretty little sentences had returned, had no such trouble.

"She did not pass away due to a natural inclination; her poor soul was prematurely escorted to heaven by God's angels."

"She was..." Charlotte again tried without success to get to the heart of the matter.

"One such as she should not have met with such a violent end; when I ponder on it, it is a most vexing thing; she most assuredly should have entered eternity in her slumber." Mr. Collins sounded as if he were practicing for her eulogy as he spoke.

"She was bludgeoned, Lizzy, repeatedly." Charlotte finally blurted out, surprising herself and hearers alike with her bluntness, "At least that is what Mr. Mason told our maid."

"Mr. Mason?"

"Yes, he is the groundskeeper at Rosings, I'm sure you have seen him on your strolls about the park. We received word that we wanted at the estate and when it was explained why, we had the same reaction that you did; that it was not proper for us to be there at such a private time." Here she looked at her husband, who it appeared was still practicing for the funeral as his lips were moving but no sound was coming out. Ignoring him (which she found increasingly easy to do), Charlotte continued,

"That is when my maid came and told us what Mr. Mason had said; that this was done by someone. It seems we are wanted by the Constable for questioning." Charlotte stood before her friend with a reassuring smile and patted her hand with one of her own.

Lizzy felt her insides churning at the revelation of Lady Catherine's death. She felt something akin to sympathy for Anne; the Colonel and to a lesser degree, Mr. Darcy. Not because she did not believe he deserved it; but that her feelings towards the man still contained anger and even somewhat, betrayal. She had thought on it much during the night; if he really loved her as he said he did how could he betray Jane and treat her friend George Wickham as he did?

"We are to be there within the hour." Charlotte was saying, so Lizzy snapped her attention back to the matter at hand.

Constable Coles knew he was in over his head; although the town had its share of petty thefts; young people engaging in childish pranks and the occasional overly soused individual disturbing the peace; never in his wildest imagination had he ever contemplated having to investigate a murder. And, he thought ruefully, a murder of an important member, if not the most important member of the community! So when Lady Catherine's nephew, the Colonel, suggested bringing in another party to get to the bottom of this crime, he gladly agreed. Thankfully, as he told both the nephews, he was aware of such a man; a Robert Jones; who he knew to be of an honest nature; married ten years; did not drink much, quiet but very thorough. He had been an investigater for the militia; primarily to track those who ran off, but occasionally someone would die far from the battlefield, in a suspicious manner, and he would track down the killer using his deductive skills; it was work Mr. Jones enjoyed doing, but an old leg injury had slowed him down; he could no longer work more than one case at a time and was forced to retire. Mr. Coles told of his credentials to the Colonel; and Richard, at that man's suggestion, dispatched a letter urging him to come to Rosings where he would be paid generously for his services upon resolution as to who had done this to Lady Catherine.

While they waited for either a reply or the man himself (thankfully, Mr. Jones lived one town over and the wait in either case would not be long), the nephews braced themselves for the appearance of their cousin. Anne, upon hearing the dreadful news, had wailed inconsolably and had to be given something for her nerves by the local doctor. When her companion, Miss Grace, had let it be known that Anne was now ready to meet with them in the parlor, the men paced around it a bit. As she entered the room, they saw that she was encased in black mourning clothes head to toe, a veil covering her face. She let her companion assist her to her usual seat , a chair with a hard back to help her weak spine (as her mother had insisted upon), near the fireplace so she would not get chilled. When she was seated, they found her to be looking (although it was hard to tell with the veil, but certainly her head was pointing in that direction) towards where her mother would have been holding court, had she been there. All was quiet except for a few sniffs behind the veil, and no motion at all but for the dabbing of eyes with a proffered handkerchief from Miss Grace. The cousins themselves said not a word, neither knowing how to broach such a horrid topic to a cousin they barely talked to on a good day.

The Constable's presence was announced, breaking the silence in the room. While waiting for word from Robert, he had been gathering information from the servants about Lady Catherine's last hours as they knew it. Someone had mentioned the Collins' and their houseguest; and he promptly let it be known that he would want an audience with them as well. He felt assured that Mr. Jones would take the case; and would not mind his help, however limited it might be.

"Have you any news sir?" Richard asked, hoping that his entrance meant that Mr. Jones had replied.

The Constable shook his head in the negative; "No, not yet, but I am certain that he will send an answer soon. In the meantime, I have asked Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their houseguest to come in an hour's time to help us ascertain what might have occurred in to the last hours of your Aunt's life." At this, Anne let a small cry escape and all eyes went to her, except Darcy's.

"You did what?" Fitzwilliam blurted out to the older man.

"Sir, I understand that this would normally be a time for family, excluding all others, but they might have seen or heard something that will help bring this already dreadful event to a quicker conclusion," the old man knew that what he had done wasn't necessarily proper, but he felt that time was of the essence.

As for Darcy, it was not so much the impropriety of their visit that disturbed him; the whole of the last twenty four hours had been filled to the brim with impropriety from all corners. No, it was not that, he thought to himself, outwardly scowling; a look that did not go unnoticed by several pairs of eyes. What had upset him was the fact that he would see her again; he would have done all in his power not to be there to see her and her utter rejection of him, that he knew she would wear on her countenance. Even if she did not, he knew of it's existence and he could not repress such knowledge.

He told himself that this was neither the time nor the place to feel sorry for himself; a woman who was his relation had been murdered and no matter how she had acted or what she had said, had she deserved such a desecration on her person as was done?

Just as he was thinking on these things, Mr. Robert Jones was announced. Darcy looked up to see an average looking man, slightly taller than most, extending his hand to Richard as Mr. Coles made the introduction. When Mr. Jones questioned the whereabouts of Mrs. DeBourgh, he was told that the body was still in the study where it had remained since discovery, so the investigator let it be known that he wished to go to that room right away. The nephews would have escorted him if asked, but they were not and both felt relieved. However, the Constable did join Mr. Jones and filled him in on all that he was able to find out about the situation, little as that was. He informed him of the soon to be arriving guests that lived nearby and their houseguest.

While that was going on, the aforementioned threesome arrived with two of them looking quite embarrassed to be party to such a personal event as was taking place there presently.

The ladies curtsied lightly and Mr. Collins bowed almost gravely if such a thing was possible. Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast as she gave Anne her most deepest sympathies. Anne nodded through the veil and Lizzy found a nearby chair to sit on while they waited in silence. Even Mr. Collin's had no speeches to give or sermons to preach; his favorite audience was no longer there; and he felt her absence most acutely.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was mere minutes; Mr. Jones returned to the room and surveying it; guessed that the added persons constituted the parson, his wife and cousin. First, he told the nephews that he indeed, would take the case, which they thanked him for. Then, he asked that all servants, employees of any kind whether they be stable boys or cooks or groundskeepers or window washers be called immediately to the ball room down the hall. It took awhile for all to assemble but Mr. Jones was nothing if not patient. When finally every last one had arrived , and when the family itself, plus the Collins' and Miss Bennet were seated at a table put there for that purpose, he announced that until further notice, all who were present in the house, would remain there until he could question the whole lot of them and until the weapon was found.

An audible gasp was heard from Darcy's side of the table, and it was in fact, him, who made it. Sequestered at Rosings? For who knew how long? With Miss Elizabeth Bennet? With each realization he felt more mortified than with the last. He had not looked at her upon her entrance; forbade himself to look, actually, and had avoided looking at her when the party went to the ballroom; but now, he allowed his eyes to observe her face, which had lost all color, no doubt due to the same reasons he had just thought of himself.

As for Lizzy this sudden turn of events-from being banned from Rosings the day before, to being kept there for some indeterminable time was almost too much to contemplate; the thought of being stuck there with Mr. Darcy only dawned on her as she saw him looking at her from the corner of her eye. Had they been paying attention to others instead of each other; they might have noticed that Mr. Jones was studying them and the looks that passed over their faces. Unbeknownst to most of the room's inhabitants, he was studying every one of them, sure as he was that the killer was someone known to Mrs. DeBourgh and was, more than likely, in the ballroom at that very moment. In fact, in his experience in such matters, he knew that there was no one he could cross out as a suspect, not even the woman's own daughter!

A/N-I did some research on the matter and found that constables were sometimes given the title w/o merit or experience but more as an honorary position. If a family could afford to do so, they could hire their own investigator.

I have been able to post sooner than I originally thought and am hoping to keep up with that. I promise it won't all be so depressing, there are better days ahead, but not for awhile Thanks for the reviews, alerts, follows and favoriting of this story...makes a writer feel good when someone likes their work.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- _There have_ _been a lot of overheard conversations in my story so far and here comes another one...I think you'll agree with me that this one was much needed! _

Chapter 5-The truth will set you free

Elizabeth Bennet was quite at loose ends; the investigator, Mr. Jones, had allowed the Collins' to return to the cottage (escorted by the constable) to retrieve some clothes and other items since he desired their stay at Rosings until further notice. Before she left, Charlotte noted to her friend how fortuitous it was that Lizzy was already packed up, therefore she could stay back at the estate and have her trunk sent for. Neither of the women noticed the look of surprise that passed over Mr. Jones' face at this news; evidently she had planned of a sooner than expected departure and she had begun preparing for it on the very same morning that the deceased was discovered. He had made plenty of mental notes (as well as written ones) about suspicious activity around the estate in the short time he had been in the midst of it, and this would be one more. For him, it was much like a puzzle, none of the pieces were fitting yet, but he had no doubt in his abilities to put them together.

But for now, since he was more interested in questioning all the servants so that they could return to their employ as soon as possible; he set himself up in the parlor for that purpose and called them in one by one.

Meanwhile, understanding that his questioning of the servants probably meant her own turn would not come until the next day at the earliest; and having no one to speak with otherwise, Elizabeth wandered the halls of the estate until she came to the one room she knew she could feel comfortable in, the library.

As she entered it, she noticed it was decorated more modestly than the rest of the house, in fact she quite liked it. There were shelves upon shelves of books, a small ladder with wheels to access the taller ones; and comfortable looking chairs adorned with pillows. Just beyond the main library was a smaller room that she discovered held even more books and also had a marvelous window seat. It was an agreeable use of space and was decorated in cheery colors of white and yellow. It dawned on her that this room was undoubtedly designed for a younger Anne's studies. It was the first area in this otherwise dreary domain where Lizzy had felt welcome and she hoped that she might visit it again should the investigator decide to keep them there even longer as she feared that he might.

Suddenly, she heard male voices talking, at first she could not make out the words but then the conversation became clearer as they entered the larger of the two rooms. Fear of discovery gripped her; and she hid behind the half-closed door of the smaller room, hoping that whoever it was would not make their way back there. She soon recognized their voices and knew them to be Mr. Darcy and his cousin, the Colonel. Mortified, she prayed most fervently that they would pick a book and leave quickly; however that was not to be.

As for the two gentlemen, they were also at a loss as to how best spend their time. Officially they were in mourning and even more so, because of the horrific nature of the passing, they did not feel that they could not partake of even the most innocent past times such as billiards. And, though they knew he was doing his best to find the culprit of this most heinous crime; Mr. Jones' take-charge attitude rather usurped their own. Rattling around Rosings under any circumstances was not something they did as a habit (hence the prior visits to the parsonage and strolls around the grounds); and in this case, it seemed even less desirable. And besides all that, Darcy had a bone to pick with Richard.

"Why ever did you tell her about my involvement with separating her sister from Charles Bingley?" Darcy wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter once both men had each picked a chair to sit in, reading, it seemed, was the furthest thing from either mind.

Richard looked at him, rather exasperatingly, "You forget, you did not tell me that was her sister!"

"You should not have told her at all."

"Maybe you should not have involved yourself in someone else's affair?"

Darcy's shoulders sagged, "I see that now. I was sure she did not care for him." Fitzwilliam laughed then, rather bitterly, "It is ironic that I should see no feelings where there were some and that I would see feelings where none existed."

"I wonder how our Aunt found out about the proposal?" Richard asked.

"I do not know. I suppose it is only a matter of time now until Mr. Jones finds out about it too." Darcy felt regret that any mortification Miss Bennet already felt on the subject due to his Aunt's interference would only be doubled once the subject became public knowledge.

"It is too bad old Wickham was not stationed around here, we could put the blame on him." Richard said, trying to make light of the subject. If he could have seen Lizzy's face right then he would have seen her displeasure at his comment.

Fitzwilliam shook his head, "George is many things; a womanizer, a gambler and a drunk; I do not believe he has added murderer to that list yet."

"Yes, I believe you are right on that point," his cousin agreed.

Behind the door, Elizabeth was bewildered by this exchange; obviously there was more to George Wickham that she had known. Knowing it was highly improper for her to be listening, she could hardly tear herself away all the same.

"I shudder to think of Georgie being here for all of this." Darcy made a sweeping motion across the room, "She had half-heartily asked to come, but I would not let her," he struggled to keep his composure, "she is still recovering from what that scoundrel did to her last spring."

"And she will recover, Darcy, don't be so hard on yourself!"

"I am her guardian, I should have taken better care of her..."

"You stopped the elopement, that is all that matters."

Behind the door, Lizzy was dumbfounded. Obviously this Georgie they referred to was Georgiana Darcy, his younger sister-and also obviously, from their conversation, George Wickham had tried to seduce her! No wonder Mr. Darcy hated him.

They were silent for a moment, until Richard broke in, "I am sorry I told Miss Bennet about Charles, you know I did not do it with an ulterior motive."

"It was my own fault, mine and mine, alone. You know our friend, however; he falls in and out of love every other week. I could tell this time was different; I knew he was forming an attachment." Darcy shook his head, "I honestly did not see any partiality coming from her. She smiled at him, but she smiled at everyone."

"You were watching out for your friend, no one can blame you for that."

"Well blame me, some one most assuredly does."

Lizzy found it hard to hear such words as these concerning herself and Jane. Of course, Charlotte had spoken of the same observation; that Jane was not showing enough regard for Mr. Bingley; Elizabeth wished now that she would have broached the subject with her sister, perhaps the heartbreak Jane had suffered could have been avoided.

"She was predisposed to hate me anyway; from nearly the first moment I met her, we got off on the wrong foot."

"Couldn't captivate her with the old Darcy charm, I see?" Richard joked.

"I called her, 'not handsome enough to tempt me', when Bingley insisted I dance with her at an assembly we both attended."

"You really have a way with words..."

"You know that dancing is not my favorite past time. I was not in the mood to be anywhere near there, my mind was filled with concern for Georgie and whether leaving her so soon after Ramsgate had been a good idea. I did not think before I spoke."

Hearing his explanation of the insult that had started her hatred for the man was jarring to Lizzy. It suddenly made more sense now that she knew the state of mind he had been in. It had never been about her; it had always been about not wanting to dance with anyone at all.

"But if that were my only sin, I suppose it could have been forgiven, of course it was not. If you heard the things I had said, during what was supposed to be the profession of my love for her, you would be aghast. Strangely enough, I accused her family of being improper when it is I who was the most improper of all of them."

Richard scowled, "I doubt that is true."

"Oh no, it is most decidedly the truth. I spoke of a most ardent love but I then I told her how unworthy she was of it; I suppose I thought she would be grateful that I had struggled to overcome all my arguments against it." he said, in a voice shrouded in regret.

"How well do you know her? Richard asked, somewhat incredulously, " I have not known her long but she does not strike me as one who would be grateful for such a thing as that."

"Yes, well I do not suppose I was thinking of anyone but myself at that moment; about the joy of having her as my wife; and of bringing some one into Georgie's life that would be the sister she has always wanted."

Lizzy nearly gasped at this proclamation of Mr. Darcy's , but luckily kept herself from doing so. It was all too much to grasp; first that he had, by his own admission, been selfish; second that he had thought it a joy for her to be his wife and third, that he wished her to be a sister to his own.

"It is yet another irony of fate that our Aunt told her she must leave and yet here she must stay. I have gone out of my way to avoid her; for both our sakes. She has made her feelings clear and I do not wish to make her any more uncomfortable than I imagine she already is." Darcy stated, rather in a defeated way.

She was in fact, very uncomfortable at that moment, the knowledge seeping into her mind that she had most certainly been mistaken about him in regards to Mr. Wickham and probably Mr. Bingley as well. And now to lose his aunt to a most violent crime? This man, who had lost his parents and was a guardian to his younger sister; had already suffered so much. Although she did not love him and would not marry him without loving him; she felt sorry that she had caused him added pain by her rejection. She cringed when she thought about the words she had used against him and to his face-arrogant, conceited; in fact, she had even told him he had "selfish disdain for the feelings of others." She too, she realized, had been improper. Then, as if to underline her impropriety, she remembered the conversation with his aunt; the part where she said, "you could die and I won't mourn." Instant mortification washed over her at the remembrance of such vile words.

"Come, let us go check on Anne, perhaps we can coax her out of her room today for a bit of food." Richard was saying, as both men arose from their seats and departed the room.

Lizzy came out of hiding then, feeling much emotion; no longer as angry at Mr. Darcy as she had been, now rather, she was beginning to feel it towards herself.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N—To give you somewhat of a timeline; the murder happened sometime between Sunday evening and early Monday morning, the body was discovered while the rest of the family attended breakfast; the constable was called and Mr. Jones' services were procured by early Monday afternoon whereupon he announced that all must remain at Rosings. The Collins' were allowed to return to the cottage for some belongings an hour or so later; the conversation that Lizzy overheard in the Library occurred right before dinnertime that same day. Meanwhile the servants were questioned first and Mr. Jones would finish with them the following afternoon right before my 2nd scene for this chapter. _

Chapter 6— Upon Further Discovery

_Scene 1-Tuesday morning_

When Elizabeth Bennet opened her eyes the following morning, she felt momentarily confused of her surroundings but as she scanned the room in which she found herself abed, the events of the day before (and that of the previous day as well) came flooding back. She hardly knew how to feel about any of the occurences; each time, when she was certain she knew all that she needed to know about any given circumstance, some new facet would come into view and change everything. This made her feel very unsettled; and out of sorts, really.

Once she had departed the library the prior afternoon, (making sure the two gentleman were nowhere in sight), she walked to the garden outside to try and clear her head of all the thoughts that seemed at war with each other. She had been there no longer than five minutes when the Collins' returned with some of their belongings as well as hers. Having no desire to be in the same room as Mr. Darcy at that present moment, she had begged off dining with the family as soon as she was shown a guest chamber by the head housekeeper. Truth be told, she did not have much of an appetite in any case. Once shown to the room, a maid had asked if she would like a bath drawn and Lizzy had nodded yes. It would feel good to sink into the comfort of warm water, she thought. Once she did so, all her concerns seem to melt away. She continued to feel amazed about what she overheard Mr. Darcy tell his cousin, however. She knew that all her prior conclusions about his character had been wrong; but did feel that it was not entirely her fault as she had no way of knowing that his stares were not of derision but of interest.

After the bath, she put on her nightclothes and climbed into the massive bed. She realized, as her eyes got heavy, that she had not slept much at all in the last twenty four hours, and so she found herself falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Now, as she lay in the softness of the blankets, the sun beaming into the windows, she guessed that she had slept later than she ought; however the idea that she might have missed breakfast with the rest of the inhabitants was welcome indeed. Understand him a bit better she might, but she also found the thought of being around Mr. Darcy mortifying. And then of course, there was the fact that this was a family in mourning and they had lost their relation in a most horrible way. No matter how offended Lizzy had been by Lady Catherine, (and no matter what she might have said in a fit of anger), she did not rejoice at her passing; and she did not wish any more pain to befall Mr. Darcy.

After she dressed for the day, she realized that her stomach felt empty and that she desired to partake of a light meal if one was still available to her. As she departed the room, a maid happened to be passing by and Lizzy asked her if she might direct her to the dining area. The maid told her what she had suspected, that 'the family has already eaten,' but offered to bring her there, and Lizzy took her up on it as she did not know her way around the estate having only been in one or two rooms the entire time. Not expecting anyone to be in the breakfast room, Lizzy was taken aback to see that Mr. Darcy himself was sitting at one end of a long table, with a plate of eggs in front of him that he was picking at with his fork.

"Miss Bennet," he said, rising, as soon as he looked up and saw her there.

"Mr. Darcy." she answered, curtsying in response. "I did not know anyone was here, I would not have come."

"Miss Bennet, you are certainly welcome to break your fast with us." he said most sincerely, still standing. "I am done, so you may have the place to yourself."

Lizzy felt herself blushing; a rare occurrence for her, but she had not meant to insult the man once again by inferring that she did not wish for his presence (even if she truly did not wish for it precisely for the way she was feeling in the midst of it)!

"I realize this is a most impossible situation we find ourselves in," he said, feeling mortification on both their behalf. He had noticed when she blushed, but quickly averted his eyes. Even now, knowing that she held no regard for him at all, he could not disentangle himself from the hold she had over him.

Lizzy then blurted out what had been on her mind since the day before, "I am so sorry, sir." she said, full of emotion.

He bowed to her before replying, "I thank you for your sympathy, I know I speak for the rest of the family as well."

Athough she most assuredly had sympathy for him on the loss of his aunt, it was not why she said she was sorry. It was not sympathy she had wished to convey; it was apology-for the names she had called him; for not seeing that he was in actuality a good man. However, since she was not supposed to know about his true motives for the things he had done, she could only let him think aunt's passing was the source of her condolences. They stood in silence for a few more awkward minutes and then he bowed and left the room. She felt no relief at his absence and as she sat down slowly in one of the seats, she realized that she no longer felt hungry after all.

_Scene 2-Tuesday afternoon_

As he went through questioning each of the servants, Robert Jones found that there were some he could dismiss right away as they'd had little or no contact with the deceased on the last day of her life. Others had merely heard this and that from other people, but had no firsthand knowledge and having nothing to contribute, he released them to return to their duties, as well. Finally, he was able to narrow it down to four or five servants who had witnessed the events as they happened, none of them had seen and heard everything, but together he was able to put some of the pieces of this puzzle into place. He still had yet to talk to other key witnesses, but until he did, he had formed a picture in his mind of that Sunday (only two days ago, but it seemed longer somehow) and how it had played out.

First, the butler said that Mr. Mason, head groundskeeper of Rosings, had his usual Sunday afternoon meeting with Mrs. DeBourgh in her study soon after the clock struck four; the butler knew it to be this time for he himself had just wound the clock in the main hall. This was corroborated by Mr. Mason, who stated that he had been in conference with her as to what her recommendations were for new flowers for the grounds. She was very particular, he said, and although she did not get her own hands dirty, she paid him most handsomely for his services. The butler had told the investigator that after Mr. Mason departed, Lady Catherine had him send for one of the errand boys, a teenager named Jack, the son of one of the groomsmen. Jack would tell of being sent to the parsonage to retrieve Miss Bennet for a private meeting with Mrs. DeBourgh. The lad said that Miss Bennet had questioned him as to why this meeting were to take place, but since he was not privy to the reason, he could not relay one to her.

According to both the butler and Jack, Miss Bennet's arrival was announced to Lady Catherine, whereupon the errand boy left and the butler started to relieve the young lady of her coat, Lady Catherine had stopped him and motioned for him to lay it over a chair in the study. Detective Jones had asked if this was the norm, because he knew it to be more customary for a coat to be hung in a closet. The butler shook his head, no, it was not customary but that Lady Catherine had demanded no interruptions or disturbances during this meeting (or any of the ones following it), and she had said, very tersely in fact; that Miss Bennet would not be there long. The head housekeeper, as well as some maids, overheard an angry argument between the ladies, as did Mr. Mason who had been tending a shrub right outside on the other side of one of the study windows. Mr. Darcy's name was mentioned and other assertions from Lady Catherine that they were most reluctant to disclose, but were convinced by the investigator to do so, as a duty to their former employer. Apparently it had come to Mrs. DeBourgh's attention that there was a rumor that Miss Bennet was trying to lure Mr. Darcy into matrimony! Only Mr. Mason added that he overheard the statement that Elizabeth made about "not mourning her should she die." The maids saw her storm out of the room, neither could remember if she was wearing the coat; although Mr. Mason seemed adamant that she had it on when she passed where he had been standing. Not long after Miss Bennet left, the housekeeper as well as some other servants had overheard Lady Catherine relay to the Colonel that she must see her nephew Fitzwilliam at once. The butler saw Mr. Darcy enter the room a short time later and noticed that the Colonel stood in the hall and waited for him. Servants overheard shouting once again coming from the study. Miss Grace, who had been accompanying Miss Anne to the dining room for supper had added that they saw Richard lingering in the hallway. Right after he had graciously offered to escort his cousin and she agreed; all heard Darcy shout, "You'll never live to see a union between Anne and I," or words to that effect. Miss Grace also saw him storm out of the room, push past both his cousins, and stomp down the hall without giving any thought to joining them for dinner. Following that exchange, several servants, including the cook, gave first hand accounts of Lady Catherine's mood being more irate than they had ever been a party too. She was threatening to fire all of them; and had gone so far as to practically throw the cook out to the street for offering to send dinner to the study. Jack was then dispatched back to the Collins' house, this time for Mr. Collins. The Butler was the last of the servants to see her alive; having announced Mr. Collins and then high tailing it out of there, she had asked not to be disturbed under any circumstances; and so all left her alone. The time of this last encounter was approximately 7 pm. None of the servants reported hearing any loud arguments coming from the study after Mr. Collins got there. They had all assumed that he had calmed her down in some way or another.

Having created this timeline for the chain of events, Mr. Jones now knew who he had to question next: Miss Bennet; Mr. Darcy; and Mr. Collins. As he walked around the study a little while later (thankfully the body had now been removed to ready it for the funeral), Robert let his eyes rest on an unmistakeable item in the room, a black coat that was draped over a chair across from the table where he imagined Lady Catherine had probably sat as she engaged in these heated arguments with at least two of the three people he needed to question next. He would have to ask her, but he assumed the coat was Miss Bennet's. Some servants claimed she had it on when she left; others weren't as sure. The question was, how did it come to be there again and with blood on it if she had worn it on her way out as Mr. Mason had claimed? Also of interest to him was how there came to be blood droppings on the table and some of it's contents when Mrs. DeBourgh was found on the other side of the room. Where exactly had the murder taken place? Mr. Jones was known to be quite unorthodox by some in his profession; he liked to try to get into the mind of the villian; it helped him in many cases and he would not do anything different in this one. If anyone had been watching him at that very moment; they would have wondered at his looking back and forth between the divan and the table; at least four feet in distance from each other. He then took to walking back and forth between the two locations; stopping at one point to look yet again at the contents on the table: some blank writing paper (with blood spots), a few quill pens, and one account book which when opened revealed drafts that had been written for the services of Mr. Mason.

Mr. Jones then sat in Lady Catherine's chair behind the table, and tried to imagine what it would have been like to be each of the people who had visited that room on Sunday. Assuredly, Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy, by the fact that each discussion escalated into an argument; had not enjoyed their time there. Both had inferred to the lady's passing; although he knew that people often said things in anger that they did not mean and would not, for the present at least; hold it against either of them. He knew by now that Miss Bennet and Mr. Collins were cousins and he imagined that Lady Catherine had called her parson to the estate for the reason of reining his family in. The rumor that Miss Bennet was attempting to attract Mr. Darcy had come from several servants who had overheard the conversation; he would be sure to ask her about it during their meeting. He knew it would be an uncomfortable subject for any lady; but it was necessary for him to know the particulars.

He would also ask her how she had come to be packed to leave when everyone he had spoken to about her departure had known it to be a week hence

As for Mr. Darcy, the investigator planned to ask him why the meeting with his aunt took place; for now it seemed centered on his refusal to marry his cousin, but more than likely, his own suspicions told him that this argument undoubtedly involved Miss Bennet as well.

And, he asked himself, where was the murder weapon? He knew that with only himself and the constable to help look for it, he might never find it. Before the body had been removed, a local doctor had come in as favor to Constable Coles, and had cleaned the area where the stab wounds were, allowing him a closer look for any clues as to how the crime might have happened. He knew from looking at the wounds, that it had been done by someone with no discernible skill; which ruled out a hired person whose business it was to "take care" of someone. In his expert opinion, it seemed to be a spur of the moment occurrence, hence all the haphazard cuts. Perhaps the killer had not intended for it to go so far; perhaps they were only trying to scare her, but once they started felt unable to stop.

And finally, probably the most disconcerting fact in this case was the lack of grief shown by anyone, save the lady's daughter and Mr. Collins. If anything; he sensed feelings of relief that she was no longer present. It was not in anything anyone had said; for none would speak so of the dead. It was more about what was missing- no tears (except for Miss Anne), no sad faces, there was not even that air of despondency that usually descended over a house when someone died. He gleaned from all he had talked to, that Lady Catherine could be an unpleasant person and certainly the last day of her life did nothing to change that opinion. He guessed that most of her employees had been afraid of her and now that the source of their fear was gone; they felt relieved. It made his job all the more difficult, he realized; it meant that any of them might have done it and all might have a motive.

Closing the door to the study, Mr. Jones decided that it had been a long day and so he would not question Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy or Mr. Collins until after Lady Catherine's service which was planned for the following morning. Having missed supper; he went off in search of the main party and found both the family and the visitors in the parlor; the men having come there after a short separation following the meal. Mr. Jones surveyed the room and was drawn into one last bit of sleuthing; with interest he attempted to see if there was any more to the relationship between Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet than met the eye. He could tell that she was most assuredly uncomfortable in his presence,as her eyes were glued to the floor for the most part; and upon inspection of the man-he was also keeping his glances away from her.

Clearing his throat to announce his presence in the room, all eyes (including Miss Bennet's) turned in his direction, He then announced that he was done interviewing the servants and wished an audience with each of them the following afternoon, most notably the last three persons that had met with her in the study that fateful day. He watched as Mr. Darcy glanced in Miss Bennet's direction; for her part, the lady returned her eyes downward and almost as a second thought, Mr. Jones looked over at Mr. Collin's who, to his general surprise, was also watching the couple and had a most disdainful look on his face as he did so.

_A/N-My longest chapter yet! It was also the chapter I struggled with the most, so far; I know where I'm going w/the story and I'm anxious to get there, but I have to build up to it and it's killing me (no pun intended)! Also, you might have noticed I did not name most of the servants; frankly it would have added nothing to the story and I would have had the extra work of keeping all the names straight, so forgive me if this is bothersome to you. _


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N-I discovered that if I write in italics I can differentiate between my notes to you and the story; otherwise it all appears clustered together. Thanks for the continued reviews-I'm interested in who you think did it; won't change the outcome of my story however...lol._

Chapter 7-Putting the pieces together

The service was not how Lady Catherine would have envisioned it if she had ever thought on such things. For instance, not many dignitaries attended; although it could hardly be taken as a snub, as most were simply away for the Easter holiday. The townspeople came, but more out of curiosity to see her remaining relations and whether they were of the same ilk as their former pompous neighbor. For sure, the event was somber but in all probability it was more for the fact of how her passing took place rather than the passing itself. There was a general feeling of sadness for her poor daughter (though in actuality, "poor," she was certainly not); but more than that there was the wonder among the villagers of who could have done such a thing; and more importantly was the perpetrator still in their midst? Tongues wagged when it became apparent that Lady Catherine's own brother (the Earl of Matlock) was not in attendance, nor was Georgiana Darcy. The former was in Spain with his wife and had yet to be notified, although every effort was being made to send him a post about his sister. As for Georgiana; Mr. Darcy chose not to tell her until he could do so in person. After the emotional upheaval of Ramsgate, he did not want her to be without him to lean on when she learned the news; a letter hardly seemed the way to break it to her.

Both the constable and the investigator were present; it was Mr. Coles neighborhood and it was only fitting that he should attend since Lady Catherine was well known there. Robert Jones, however, had other motivations. He felt sure that the murderer was in attendance and so he watched everyone to see if anything suspicious occurred. His observations included the looks that passed between Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet, although truthfully; they weren't looking in tandem and neither stared at the other beyond what was proper. Mrs. Collins appeared to be listening intently to her husband's long winded eulogy; she nodded at the right times and smiled slightly, seeming to encourage him on. Mr. Jones felt that it was false although he could not put his finger on why and would not be able to explain it if he had been asked. He had, however, heard opinions aplenty amongst the help that the Collins union was one of convenience for both sides-he needed a wife and she needed to be one. The detective studied Mr. Collins as he expounded on all the charitable works of the deceased and how much she would be missed by all who knew her. He seemed to be repeating that same point over and over, yet using different words to do it.

"Woe to us that we should not be honored with the presence of our most illustrious neighbor." he was saying, wiping away an invisible tear as he did so. "We have lost a little bit of ourselves with her passing."

Mr. Jones had no doubt that Collins did indeed feel lost without Lady Catherine; he had heard from many different sources how the parson often seemed to hang on her every word, had taken all of her criticisms to heart and looked up to her in a way that no one else who knew her did (including her own daughter).

As for Miss DeBourgh, the investigator had started to notice something rather strange or at least strange for a person who was said to be so sickly and delicate. Miss Anne, although still very much in mourning, was also getting about without help; and without the daily regimen of herbs and other medicinal potions that her mother had made her take every morning without fail. All the girl needed, it seemed, was a little freedom.

Finally, the service ended; and the family, along with their guests arrived back at Rosings at about two o'clock. The ladies wished to freshen up; so Mr. Jones called Mr. Darcy into the study for their meeting. Fitzwilliam was a bit surprised that it should take place there, but the investigator assured him that it had been cleaned up and there was not a hint that anything horrible had happened. Of course, it had been Mr. Jones' idea to question his next line of witnesses in that room; he wanted to gauge their reactions to being in the last place they had seen Lady Catherine alive.

"So, Mr. Darcy, why did your aunt wish to speak with you on that Sunday afternoon?" he asked, as soon as the two men had sat, Mr. Jones in Lady Catherine's chair behind the desk and Darcy across from him on the other side.

Mr. Darcy hesitated, he had given much thought to what he would say and how he would say it. It brought him pain that he might embarrass Miss Bennet; but he was a truthful man and abhorred all forms of deception.

"My aunt had learned of an action that I had taken and she was not pleased by it." he answered, plainly.

Mr. Jones motioned for him to go on; he could tell that the young man was reluctant to continue, but he needed to hear whatever it was.

Mr. Darcy let out a breath and answered slowly as if he were measuring his words, "I had made an offer to Miss Bennet."

Mr. Jones was somewhat surprised but did not show it; he had thought the rumor to be just that, merely gossip among servant girls that for some reason Lady Catherine had taken as fact.

"And did she accept?"

"No, she did not." .

"Your aunt was not happy because you made the offer?"

"She was not." Fitzwilliam said, keeping his answers short, in an attempt to keep control of both his feelings and the conversation.

"Did that make you angry?"

"No sir; although I was somewhat perturbed when I became aware that my aunt had spoken to Miss Bennet about this matter before she had broached it with me."

"How do you suppose your aunt found out about it?" Mr. Jones had his own theory about this but he kept it to himself.

"Gossip I suppose, someone must have overheard us; but I cannot imagine who."

Mr. Darcy found himself looking around the room. He felt much discomfort in it, because it reminded him of all he had said to his aunt and he did not like what he remembered.

"You were heard to say, 'You will never live to see a union between Anne and I.' the investigator said, seeming to read his mind and capturing Darcy's attention with his bluntness.

"My aunt was under the impression that my cousin and I would marry someday," he explained. "It was her wish and she believed it would happen but neither I nor my cousin ever intended to enter into such an agreement. My aunt was especially deaf to my pleas three days ago and would not entertain any notion that did not match hers."

"Did that anger you?"

"Perhaps frustrated would be a better word." he was beginning to feel that way with Mr. Jones, but managed to keep his emotions in check, "I could not convince her that a marriage proposal from me to Anne was not going to occur."

"Were you frustrated enough to convince her permanently?" Mr. Jones asked him, in all seriousness.

Mr. Darcy's eyes flashed for but a second, however he was not a stupid man, he knew what people like the investigator were about; and he would not succumb to it.

"No." Fitzwilliam regulated his voice once more to a calmer tone.

Mr. Jones decided to change tactics. "You say that Miss Bennet did not accept your hand, why was that?"

Here Mr. Darcy faltered, but soldiered on a minute later, "She did not return my affections."

"That has hardly stopped a case for matrimony before." the investigator noted.

"Not only did she not return my affections; she had several reasons she did not like me at all, one could even say, she quite dislikes me."

For a man like Mr. Darcy to admit such a thing rather amused the detective; but it was neither the time nor the place to find mirth in such matters.

"I would say it must be quite awkward for the two of you to be in the same house at the moment; is that why you stare in her direction often?"

Fitzwilliam was surprised that Mr. Jones had noticed this and was a bit mortified by it as well.

He chose to ignore the inquiry.

"One more question," Jones asked, pointing to a piece of clothing laying over a chair nearby, "do you remember if that coat was there when you were talking to your aunt?"

Mr. Darcy looked at what he pointed to; and could not imagine the significance of it. "I do not know," he answered truthfully. "I hardly noticed it now until you pointed it out to me."

Ok, sir, that will be all for now. You may tell your lady to come in..." he let the sentence hang in the air; they both knew of whom he spoke even if "she" was not really Mr. Darcy's lady.

_While that conversation was taking place, Elizabeth had been filling Charlotte in on all that had happened, starting with the proposal and ending with what she overheard in the library._

"Oh Lizzy, I told you he held you in regard. I just knew it!" Charlotte practically squealed.

"He probably does not hold me in as much regard now, I daresay. I was brutal in my rejection."

Charlotte looked at her best friend (and cousin by marriage), "You heard him take the blame for all that he said; I am certain he will hold none of it against you."

Not completely knowing which she preferred (his still holding her in regard or not),

Elizabeth could not help but wonder what Mr. Darcy was telling the investigator; would he tell him how angry she had been, how angry they both had been during his disastrous proposal? Would he be honest about the horrid way he had pledged his love to her; would he disclose to Mr. Jones how she had matched, nay, surpassed his insults in her rejection of it? She worried also because of the terrible way she had handled the meeting with Lady Catherine; she was sure that parts of it were bound to have been overheard, especially the last sentence that had left her mouth before she departed. She shuddered as she thought of it.

"Are you cold, Lizzy?" Charlotte asked her, concerned.

But before she could answer, Mr. Darcy entered the room in which they sat and announced to her that she was wanted in the study.

_Lizzy's interview_-

"Tell me how you came to be at Rosings on Sunday afternoon, Miss Bennet." Mr. Jones was still seated behind the desk with Lizzy sitting where Mr. Darcy had been; now however, he picked up a stack of blank paper that had been at the corner of the table as if he were going to write down all that she told him.

"She had sent an errand boy to the parsonage; I had been strolling the grounds and he was there when I returned." Lizzy said, not willing to give the investigator a more detailed answer as of yet.

Mr. Jones looked up from the papers and stared her straight in the eye, "You had been out for a stroll in the rain?"

Lizzy knew by the bemused look in his eye that he knew exactly where she had been. She was quite taken aback that he seemed to be teasing her about it.

"I can only assume that Mr. Darcy has told you that he offered his hand and I rejected it." she admitted, finally. "I had been walking home from Sunday services when the downpour came. After I had found cover, I was surprised to look up and see him standing before me.

"So you were not trying to bait him, then?"

Elizabeth sighed, willing herself not to get angry. "I am not the kind of lady who feels the need to bait a man. I will marry for love or not at all!"

"Mr. Darcy told me that you utterly and unequivocally rejected his suit."

Lizzy was surprised by the bluntness that Mr. Jones possessed; she was just as surprised that Mr. Darcy would admit to such a thing. She wanted to tell the investigator that she had been very angry at her would-be suitor that day but was not any longer; however she would have no reason to give for her change of heart, she was not about to confess hearing a conversation that was not for her ears. Her hesitation to his statement piqued Mr. Jones' interest.

"Mr. Darcy also said that he believes you dislike him very much."

Elizabeth chose her words carefully, "I do not know Mr. Darcy well enough to have any great feelings for him in either direction." What she did not say was that she had thought she had known the man very well, but that knowledge turned out to be wrong.

"I understand that Lady Catherine was quite angry with you." Mr. Jones went back to looking down at the blank paper he had yet write on.

"She thought I had sought to attract Mr. Darcy with my youthful charms and witty conversation." It mortified her to recount that accusation. The investigator, however, appeared unsurprised.

"She blamed you for his interest?"

"Very much so; even after I told her I did not accept him, she would not be placated."

"You were overheard to say, 'You will die and I will not mourn,'

Lizzy blushed at the sound of her words said back to her; she attempted to justify them, but found that she could not.

"Lady Catherine had banished me from Rosings; and I admit that I was happy to go. But I should never have said that, I can only beg forgiveness from her relatives now." Mr. Jones noted that Miss Bennet looked and sounded remorseful.

"I do not believe they know, Miss Bennet; I for one, have not told them." he gave her a small smile, but his attempt to offer her encouragement had quite the opposite effect for she started to cry.

"Oh the horrid things I said the whole of that day," she confessed, through her tears, "I regret them all very much now." As Mr. Jones reached across the table to offer Miss Bennet his handkerchief, he knocked the papers off the desk sending them in all different directions. Elizabeth retrieved the scattered pages and laid them back on the table.

"Is that your coat, Miss Bennet?" He pointed to a chair to her right. He watched as a look of recognition spread on her face.

"Yes, I had left it here in my hurry to leave."

"One of the servants said you were wearing it when you left."

Lizzy blanched, "I most certainly was not." she said, most adamantly.

Quite suddenly, the investigator realized something that prior to this point he had not noticed. It was all he could do not to shout it from the rooftop. Satisfied that he needed no more information from her, he allowed Miss Bennet to take her leave. A good twenty minutes later he rang for the butler, requesting that he send Jack to the constable with a note that Jones had just written; he then asked the servant to tell Mr. Collins that he wished to speak with him at his earliest convenience.


	8. Chapter 8

_Surprise-I am updating a few days early! You can thank the good people whose idea it was to have a three day weekend (Labor Day)-see what I can do with a couple of days off in a row (work has been exceedingly busy)? I will try my best to get you another chapter by Wednesday...since this chapter is rather short._

Chapter 8-Well, what do we have here?

To say that Mr. Jones was distracted would be an understatement; but he hid it well. He knew he still had one more person to interview and that he must keep his wits about him. Presently, Mr. Collins stood before him on the other side of the table as had Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet. The investigator motioned for him to sit and he did so.

"What brought you to Rosings last Sunday evening; it was rather late for a call was it not?"

"Lady Catherine had sent for me especially; she often did that, many a time she would call for a private audience." he answered proudly, as he thought on it.

"What were these private meetings about, generally?"

"She enjoyed reviewing points in the sermons I gave; she had the utmost skill in deciphering hidden meanings in all things," here Collins chuckled, "why, she often comprehended deeper meanings than I had even known I was making."

"And what hidden meaning had she discovered last Sunday?" Jones asked, rather sarcastically, but it was lost on Mr. Collins as he did not have an ear for such things.

"Ahem, well, last Sunday, ah let's see." The parson who valued his own penchant for public speaking now found himself tongue tied.

"It was not about your sermon, was it Mr. Collins? It was about a certain young lady who was a guest in your home, was it not?"

Like those who had sat in this room with Jones already, Collins was taken aback by the directness of speech that the investigator possessed. He did not think it wise to be anything other than completely truthful.

"Yes."

"What did she tell you?" Jones' civilized tone belied his stern attitude.

"She told me that Lizzy, that is, Miss Bennet, had lured Mr. Darcy into proposing marriage." Collins could not remember if that had been her exact words, but they were close enough.

"What did she want you to do about it?"

"She wanted me to remove her from the premises. I was to ensure her departure the following morning."

This interested Mr. Jones very much as he had not heard of it prior.

"Did you tell Miss Bennet that she was to leave the next morning when you arrived home?"

"I never saw my cousin when I arrived home; my wife was waiting for me and I told her," Mr. Collins remembered the look on Charlotte's face (and her ultimatum) and scowled. "My wife was not pleased with the news."

"Did you argue?"

Collins looked aghast, "As a man of the cloth, I do not engage in warring words with my wife; I am proud to say that we have much felicity at the parsonage," he said, firmly.

It was not for Jones to speculate on that particular statement; but he did note to himself that for all his words to the contrary, the parson seemed a bit defensive on the subject of his marriage.

"When you bid Lady Catherine a good night, was she alive?"

"Of course she was!" Mr. Collins exclaimed in almost a shout.

Jones looked at the parson, intently. He knew that most people thought he was a ridiculous sort of fellow-always complimenting the ladies without much basis to do so; and always singing the praises of Lady Catherine when all else could see what a controlling, manipulative person she really was. Perhaps it was not fair; but from the servants to the towns people he had talked to, not one had anything particularly complimentory to say of the man. Since most doubted the existence of his backbone; they might be rather surprised at this sudden burst of indignation.

"One more question, did you happen to notice if Miss Bennet had her coat on when she returned to the parsonage after her meeting with Lady Catherine?"

Collins appeared to be thinking about it for a few minutes before answering, "I don't believe she did."

Having no other questions to ask him, Jones let him leave. He was aching to know what was keeping the constable-he expected him to come calling any time now.

_While the investigator waited in the study for Mr. Coles; Elizabeth, Anne, Richard and Mr. Darcy were sitting in the parlor having tea._

"Miss Bennet," Miss DeBourgh ventured, "Would you consider playing something soothing for me on the pianoforte?"

Lizzy was somewhat surprised by the request, first that Miss Anne had voiced her desire for it and second, because she was not very accomplished in that area. But, she did want to soothe the young lady and so agreed.

As she played a soft melody that Jane had taught her long ago; Mr. Darcy came to stand at her side much as he did the last time she had played at Rosings. She knew now that he had wished to be near her then; she was not sure of his motives at present, however.

"Miss Bennet, please let me apologize for the terrible predicament my ill chosen words have put you in."

Her fingers faltered at his address, but she recovered quickly and returned to pressing the keys with just the right pressure.

"Sir, I believe we have both said things we now regret." she admitted, looking up at him for a fleeting moment.

"You have said nothing that I did not deserve." he answered, in a most contrite voice.

"Perhaps, or perhaps not; but I did say something particularly awful to your aunt, and I regret that very much." her feelings on the matter weighed heavily on her and would not be dismissed.

Mr. Darcy looked thoughtfully at her, "I too, said some things that I wish I had not. It grieves me that the last conversation we had was an argument."

Lizzy nodded in agreement, unsure of what to say. Feeling herself dangerously close to revealing more than she cared to, she directed her attention at Miss Anne, (still in mourning clothes, sans the veil). Elizabeth had realized upon seeing her, that the young lady had color in her face and was no longer so wretchedly pale. Presently, the Colonel was talking to her in hushed tones and had managed to get Miss DeBourgh to smile, a sight that Lizzy did not believe she had seen before.

Darcy saw what Lizzy was looking at; and remarked, "My cousin seems much improved, does she not?"

"Yes I daresay she does."

The change was rather remarkable, Lizzy thought. Out from under her mother's shadow, Miss Anne seemed to be blossoming.

Changing the subject, Mr Darcy turned back to her and said, "If you do not mind my asking, how was your meeting with Mr. Jones?"

At this, Lizzy looked at him and replied, "Not well I believe. There is some to-do about my coat in the study." she admitted.

"That was your coat?" Mr. Darcy remembered the odd question that Jones had asked him about a coat.

"Yes I had left it there, quite innocently; but one of the servants, I do not know who, has said that they saw me wearing it out. If that is what Mr. Jones believes, than he must also believe I returned." Lizzy"s voice took on a pleading tone, "I promise you I did not return to the estate, I did not have anything to do with your aunt's passing!"

" No one here would ever believe such a tale." he told her, most earnestly.

"Then I must thank you; because I was concerned that some might. I was very angry, but I would never..."

"Of course not." he said, reassuringly. He smiled at her (a pleasing sight to behold if she dared admit it to herself). She smiled at him in return and was somewhat surprised at how easy it had been to do so, considering all the words and accusations they had shared a mere four days ago. Somehow, they had overcome those difficulties and were forming a better acquaintance. Mr. Darcy attributed it to her being forced to stay there and making the best of it. Miss Elizabeth knew that on her side at least, her feelings for the man had changed for the better. Presently, they were able to be in close proximity and a peaceful calm settled over them. They might have stayed in that attitude indefinitely, had they not heard a commotion just outside of the room; it seemed that the constable had some news for the investigator and he was knocking loudly on the study door down the hall.

_And what will he report to Jones?_

"Did you find it?" Jones asked him excitedly, when finally the constable was standing in front of him.

"Not exactly, sir." Constable Coles was looking exceedingly pleased even though he had not discovered the item that he had been sent to look for. Jones' face fell at the report, but the older man had a welcome surprise for him, nonetheless.

"I believe I have found something better, sir." With that, he produced an object wrapped in a handkerchief, which when uncovered, made the investigator smile. It was a letter opener, probably silver, covered in what appeared to be, caked up blood.

"Where did you find it?" Jones asked, hoping it would be in the vicinity of where his suspect would have been. What the constable told him nearly brought him to his knees.

"At the parsonage, in the room where Miss Bennet was staying."

_That was very mean of me to end this chapter there, wasn't it? _


	9. Chapter 9

_I nearly broke this up into two parts but I feared you would find me and my fate would be the worse for it...lol. _

Chapter 9-Sacrifices

Once he had recovered from the shock of where Constable Coles had found the murder weapon, Mr. Jones called for a meeting in the parlor with seven of the people that he knew to have the most interest in the case of who had murdered Lady Catherine. They included her daughter Anne, nephews Richard and Fitzwilliam, Miss Bennet, the Collins' and Mr. Mason. It was to his advantage that four of them were already there and he had only to round up the other three; which had not been difficult even in such a large house as Rosings was. He invited the constable to sit in as well. It was almost dinner time, but he did not wish to delay this any longer.

Mr. Mason scoffed at being included; but Jones merely let him simmer a while before he let the others in on why a lowly groundskeeper would be involved in a private matter such as this.

The other six looked at him expectedly; what with the constable's entrance earlier that day, some felt that he must have news. Jones would not disappoint them.

"The constable has found what we believe to be the weapon used in the murder of Mrs. Debourgh." he told them. He knew what he was about to do was in all ways improper considering the mix of people in the room, but he did it anyway. Before their eyes, he produced the letter opener, still caked in blood. The ladies gasped and the men stared.

"Where did you find it?" Richard asked Mr. Coles. The constable remained silent, having agreed to do so by order of the investigator.

Mr Jones paused for just a moment, knowing that what he was about to say would surely bring the house down in chaos, but forged ahead.

"At the parsonage, in the room that we understand was Miss Bennet's while she stayed there."

If gasps had been heard when the letter opener had been unveiled, they were even more vocal now.

As for Miss Bennet, she was shaking her head, no. All the color had drained from her face, it was her greatest fear that somehow after what she had said, they would think she had done it.

Jones continued, "We know from Mr. Mason here, that she had left her meeting with Lady Catherine wearing her coat but somehow it was found there the morning of the murder; so that was my first clue." Mr. Mason started at the sound of his name and did not like being named as someone who had accused Miss Bennet.

Lizzy stared at the groundskeeper; "Sir you were mistaken!" she cried.

Mr. Mason turned away from her only to see Mr. Darcy glaring at him.

"Also, I was told by several servants that she was heard to say, 'You will die and I won't mourn.'

Elizabeth cast her eyes downward, she could not bear to look at anyone, especially Mr. Darcy.

"Taken all together, I believe we have our killer." Charlotte protested to this loudly, as did Richard. Darcy remained silent as he stared at Miss Bennet, who looked like she might crumple to the floor. He knew she did not do it, even if she had not told him as much; he knew she was not capable of such a monstrous thing. But still, he feared for her in the courts of London, he knew that lesser trumped up charges had resulted in convictions there.

She started to cry, and protested in her own defense, "You are mistaken, I did not do this."

Jones appeared unmoved, "Miss Bennet, even without the coat and what you said, there is another clue that Mr. Collins gave me earlier." All eyes turned to the parson and as they did so, he shifted in his chair, as if uncomfortable, completely unaware of any clue he might have given the investigator.

"I had wondered at your being packed up to leave the morning after; Collins' told me that Lady Catherine had ordered him to have you depart, so I thought that was the reason, but then he informed me that he never told you. My only conclusion can be that you thought to leave before your crime was discovered."

Elizabeth was stunned by his conclusion and attempted to defend her actions,

"Sir I overheard the conversation that my cousin and his wife had," she looked apologetically towards Charlotte, "I knew I was expected to leave the following morning."

Mr. Jones shrugged at her, "You will have your day in court, Miss Bennet." He started to pack up his notes, as if the meeting was over.

Mr. Darcy was regretting ever hiring this man; he evidently was incompetent and he feared that if Miss Bennet went to London, she would be found guilty. Even if he had no future with her, he wished her to have a life that did not include prison or worse. A man in love will do impulsive things, even one as self-disciplined as Mr. Darcy.

Amid the protests of all in the room, Mr. Darcy spoke in a loud, stern voice with a severe look on his face,

"You are mistaken sir, she did not do this."

Jones looked up and smirked at him, "You only say that because she has bewitched you."

Mr. Darcy ignored him, "You may take me to London, sir. I did it. I am the guilty one."

_ooooooooooooo_

There was not a person in the room who thought Mr. Darcy had done it, least of all, the investigator. He looked up at the tall young man and admired his courage for what he was doing, however misguided it might be. He decided to play along a bit and see what answers he might elicit from him.

"How did the weapon get in Miss Bennet's room, were you trying to blame her?"

Mr Darcy's eyes flashed in anger, "I do not know what that letter opener was used for, but it is not what I used. My weapon is at the bottom of the Rosings Pond where I threw it."

"Why did you do this?" Mr. Jones marveled to himself how quiet the room had become except for their exchange of words. Everyone was hanging on whatever Darcy would say.

"It was as you accused me of in our meeting; I did not want to marry my cousin." he looked at Anne, "I do not love her as I would wish to love a wife. But my aunt would not hear of it and I feared she would find some way to make it happen."

"Mr. Darcy, you realize you are confessing to a serious crime. With your wealth it is possible that you may buy your way out, but it is also possible you will not be able to. What will become of your sister?"

Fitzwilliam swallowed hard; he was counting on a costly lawyer to get him out of this, but what if one could not? But he stood firm in his deception and said nothing more.

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. Had he just confessed to save her? He who abhorred all forms of deceit had just lied on her behalf? She looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam pleading with him silently to do something. He nodded in her direction.

"Sir with no proof, I can hardly believe you have a case against my cousin." Richard stated.

Jones sighed, this meeting had not gone at all as he had hoped. "Your cousin has just confessed in front of a host of witnesses; even if some would remain silent of it; there are others who would not."

Mr. Darcy stood resolutely; his face set in such a manner that it was if he was openly daring any of them to remain silent on this, should it come to that. Miss Bennet was aghast; she could not let him do this for her, but what was the alternative?

Richard spoke up again, "So you are saying that because he has confessed in front of us, even without the murder weapon, you will take his confession as fact?"

"Innocent people rarely confess to a crime that they did not commit." Jones answered him, unsure of what the Colonel's point was.

Richard looked at Anne, winked at her (a wink only she saw) and continued, "Then I would like to confess."

Jones started to protest, but the Colonel cut him off. "I confess in front of all these witnesses that I did the crime; I murdered my aunt."

The investigator was tiring of this, he had been hired to do a job and if it did not turn out the way the family would have wanted, it was not his fault.

"Sir you have no motive; I never considered you a suspect which is why I never called you in for extended questioning."

Richard knew he had only one motive that might make sense and even though he had not been prepared to declare himself this soon (and under these conditions); it was for Darcy's sake that he did so.

"I did not want my cousins to marry either. I was afraid my aunt would find a way to force it."

"And what was it to you?" Jones asked, intrigued.

Richard looked at Anne and replied honestly, "I wanted to marry her." His cousin smiled shyly in his direction.

Jones was growing impatient, "And what of your weapon, where is it?"

"It's in the pond." he said, tearing his gaze away from Miss DeBourgh and turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Colonel you are the one who retained my services, why would you have done that if you are the culprit?" Jones asked him, incredulously.

Richard said nothing but simply shrugged.

"You have just declared yourself the murderer of your aunt, do you realize how much trouble you could be in and as a member of the militia and a decorated officer, at that? What will your father say?"

"He did not do it, I did." Miss Anne interjected. Every eye in the room turned to Miss DeBourgh, who rarely said a word in public to her family much less a complete sentence to men such as Jones.

Visibly exasperated, Jones sank down in a nearby chair. He wondered at what point he had lost control of this meeting. He looked about the room and saw no sign of what should have been an serious interrogation; Miss Bennet was looking longingly at Mr. Darcy who was not looking at any one at all, but rather straight ahead. The Colonel had just declared himself to his cousin and each were looking lovingly at the other even though they had both just confessed to a most heinous crime.

"Miss DeBourgh, this is a serious thing you are confessing to; parental murder is not looked upon in a great light, even for someone of your wealth. The best lawyer in town might not be able to keep you from being executed." Jones was serious and tried to impart it.

"She should not be executed, because she is not the guilty one, I am." Now it was Charlotte's turn and all eyes fell on her.

"I have been my most happiest since dear Lizzy came to visit." Charlotte smiled at her friend, warmly.

"When my husband came home and told me that we were to make her leave the very next day, I did not want her to go."

She continued to smile at Lizzy who for her part was shaking her head no in an effort to get her friend to stop. She knew that Charlotte had the least chance of all of them to escape punishment for this.

"I went to Rosings after my husband retired for the night, Lady Catherine was still in the room and we got into a terrible argument; I picked up the nearest thing I could find and I stabbed her with it as she sat on the couch."

All sat in stunned silence, but she was not finished. "I only placed the letter opener in Lizzy's room after we had been allowed to return for our belongings on Monday."

It was a compelling story, one that Jones would have considered had he not had another piece of evidence, one that had yet to be explained by any of the other so-called confessions. All attention then turned to Mr. Collins, who for his part was staring at the ceiling.

Jones looked at him and said, "Well, Mr. Collins, will you not also confess to this murder thereby taking the blame off your wife?"

Collins, who had closed his eyes briefly, now opened them and said to no one in particular. "As a man of the cloth, I cannot in all good conscience confess falsely to an act that I did not commit, no matter how much regard I may feel for another." The coldness in his tone of voice belied regard for anyone other than himself, however.

Mr. Jones now felt as if control had been handed back to him and on a silver platter as well.

"Or it could be, " the investigator answered him, "that you do not wish to confess to it because _your_ confession, Mr. Collins, would be the only one that would be true."

_Is he right? Did Collins do it? _


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N-Glad you liked my "multiple confessions" from last chapter-I had fun writing that!_

Chapter 10-It all makes sense now...sort of.

Charlotte Collins could not believe her ears; did Mr. Jones just accuse her husband of murdering his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine DeBourgh?

"This afternoon, during my interview with Miss Bennet," Mr Jones told them, "I discovered something I had not seen before. Do you remember, madam, when my papers all went flying to the floor?" he asked her.

Lizzy nodded.

"When you handed them to me, I noticed a strange thing." he suddenly pulled what appeared to be a blank paper, out of his pocket. "It has markings on it, imprints really..." he still looked rather amazed at his find, "...after you left the room I looked at it more carefully and discovered that the imprints were words. I could only imagine that this piece of paper had been underneath another one-one in which someone had written a letter."

If anyone had been bothering to look at Mr. Collins' face at that moment, they would have noticed that all the color had drained out of it.

"For there to be an imprint of the original letter on this one could only mean that the writer was exerting much pressure on the paper; usually a sign of high emotion; and as we all know, Lady Catherine was rather angry on Sunday. In fact, she seemed to get more irate as the day wore on."

He looked over at Mr. Mason then, with what could only be called a measure of disdain.

"It is my opinion, that you sir," he said, pointing at the groundskeeper, "were the one to tell Mrs. DeBourgh about the proposal Mr. Darcy made to Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth gasped at this revelation; his open-ness about something so wholly personal she did not care for. Fitzwilliam himself racked his brain but could not recall seeing the groundskeeper anywhere near the site of their conversation, but it was certainly plausible that the man had been lurking nearby.

"In fact, sir, I believe that Lady Catherine retained your services for the purposes of spying more so than gardening although I am sure you are equally masterful at both." Jones stated.

Mr. Mason would not be accused unjustly however, "Mrs. Debourgh paid me well for my services, whatever they may have been."

"Of that you tell the truth. I have found the drafts from the monies she paid you for your...as you call them, services. My only point is that before your meeting with her on Sunday, her mood was calm; after it, anything besides."

Lizzy found herself confused, "If his duty was spying why did he claim to have seen me with my coat?"

"Yes, Mr. Mason, would you desire to enlighten us about that?"

But the groundskeeper had nothing to say.

"I believe, Miss Bennet, that he knew perfectly well that you did not wear it out, but said it to throw me off track of what his real duties to Mrs. DeBourgh were; if everyone else said that you did not have it, he would seem to be an ureliable witness."

"But why do you think my husband has anything to do with this?" Charlotte exclaimed, changing the subject back to the one that interested her most.

"I came to that conclusion by what I could make out of the imprints on this paper." again he held up the parchment, "words that include...'replace my parson...offer your son the living'." Evidently Lady Catherine had in mind to get rid of Mr. Collins; or perhaps allow him to think she would if he did not take serious her demand that Miss Bennet leave Rosings."

"So that is what you were looking for when Mr. Coles found the weapon; a letter?" Richard asked.

The investigator simply nodded.

Everyone looked to Mr Collins then, expecting him to at least protest what he was being accused of, but like a sheep to the slaughter, he made no noise. He looked strangely calm, as a matter of fact.

"The only question that remains is whether he murdered her before he left Rosings that evening or did he return later on and do the deed?"

Charlotte wondered that too; she searched her mind for the details of their conversation. Her thoughts rested on the ultimatum that was known only to her and to him; and possibly Elizabeth since she had admitted to overhearing their argument.

"If I were to hazard a guess," she offered, "I would say he returned later."

Collins audibly gasped at her conjecture; but no one else was entirely surprised; perhaps if he had played along and confessed to save her, she would not have betrayed him presently.

"And what makes you say that, Mrs. Collins?"

"I told my husband that if he made Lizzy go, that I would go with her. I do not believe that Lady Catherine would have been pleased with him if he were not able to keep me in line."

"Was that it, Mr. Collins? Did you rid yourself of the problem so that you could keep your living; your wife and her friend and no one be the wiser?" Jones accused.

Collins looked at each of them, finally resting his eyes on Charlotte, his glare was steely and cold and it made her shiver. What he would say next (and how he would say it) would shock all of them to the core, even the tough old bird, Mr. Jones, "I did not do it for my wife;" he explained, icily, "in fact, by the time I returned to the cottage, I daresay Lady Catherine was already turning cold."

It did not take much prodding after that confession to make Mr. Collins spill the rest of his secrets. He told of their meeting; her demands that he rid Rosings of his cousin; how Lady Catherine would not let him speak and laughed when he tried. He spoke of the letter she held up for him to see, already sealed and presumably prepared to be sent if he did not do as she demanded.

He admitted to fearing the existence of that letter; how it seemed to be a weapon in her hand, one she might use whenever she felt that he was not living up to her expectations. He attempted to disuade her of needing a new parson; that he would never give her reason to replace him.

As for Lizzy having to leave, what was that to him? He wanted her to go; she had displaced him in his own home as the source of his wife's happiness. No, what drove him to murder Lady Catherine was solely to keep her from sending him away.

"But how?" Jones wanted to know.

Collins continued with his story, almost basking in the attention it was bringing him. For certain, he had preached many a sermon, but he had never had this much interest in anything he had said before.

He said that she had turned her back on him and told him to go; dismissing him as if he were merely a peon or one of her lowly servants. He said he felt rooted to the spot; and when in turning around, she realized that he had not left as she had demanded, she sighed loudly. She told him she had grown exceedingly weary of him, and added that when Lizzy left, he should pack up his family and go with her. She was tired of the lot of them! As if to emphasis her weariness, she sat on the couch and motioned, once again for him to leave. He then told his rapt audience, "I do not know what possessed me to go over to the table, pick up the letter opener, walk over to where she sat and thrust it into her chest; but that is exactly what I did". And once he did it, he said that he found he could not stop doing it; until finally, her body went limp.

He told how he had gone back over to the table to make sure there were no other letters there, and he put both the letter opener and the letter to the new parson in his pocket. He said he finally came to himself when he noticed that his hands were all bloody.

Mr. Jones noted to Mr. Collins that since he had the wherewithal to take the weapon and the letter, it showed that he knew exactly what he was doing, but the parson ignored his observation.

Getting back to his story, he told them that he left, but not before making certain that none of the servants were nearby, which to his relief, they were not. He then went to the pond and washed his hands before returning to the cottage where his wife was waiting for him. He told her of Lady's Catherines's demand knowing full well that nothing would come of it; but his wife gave him an ultamatim of her own; she would leave if Lizzy left! At that point he finally saw his life as others must have known it; he was a ridiculous excuse of a man with a wife who had only married him so she would not be an old maid. So he told her to do what she thought was best and he retired for the evening.

And then, he said, rather excitedly, when he woke the next morning (after a surprisingly good night's sleep), he chose not to think on his part in the event. He was sure no one would believe he was capable of such a thing; there was no motive for him to do it and no witnesses that he had done so. He stopped talking then, but Jones still had one more question for him,

"When did you put the letter opener in Miss Bennet's room?"

Collins gave a small smile, "my wife and I think alike, it seems; for what she said in her false confession is what I did-that is, put the letter opener in her room when we returned to retrieve some belongings. I had not meant to put the blame on her, but thought it was providential later on when you announced where it had been found."

Lizzy turned away from him then, in disgust. One by one, so did everyone else, excepting Jones and the constable.

Satisfied that he had his man, the investigator announced that Collins would be put under house arrest for the evening, guarded in a room with the both he and the constable present; and taken to London on the morrow to be formally charged. Lizzy had her arms around Charlotte in an effort to comfort her friend from the shock of all they had just heard. Darcy asked that he be permitted to escort the carriage to London as he had been planning to depart once the case had been closed, at which the Colonel chimed in that he would like to go as well. Jones was happy to let them join in the trip, as they had witnessed the man's confession and it would bode well for a faster hearing.

He also told Miss Bennet and Mrs. Collins that they were free to return to the cottage if they so desired; Charlotte nodded that she would indeed prefer to and so a carriage was called for to take the ladies to the parsonage. Before they left, Lizzy had hoped to have a word with Mr. Darcy, but he had bowed and bade them a good night before she was able to.

The Colonel, standing nearby with Miss Anne by his side, noticed her disappointment and addressed Mrs. Collins, "We will come by tomorrow morning, if that is agreeable, to say our goodbyes?"

"Yes of course," Charlotte answered. And with that, the ladies departed.

_What do you think will happen tomorrow, dear readers? In any event, you will not have to wait long to find out...I have already written the scenes for it (it is the last chapter of this story by the way) and will release it as soon as I have tweaked it to my satisfaction._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N-I have been looking forward to writing this chapter probably as much as I look forward to you reading it...it's what I would enjoy reading because I love Elizabeth and Darcy, so I hope you like it!_

Chapter 11-Coming full circle

Elizabeth did not feel as if she had slept even one minute the night after her cousin confessed to being the murderer of Mrs. DeBourgh. It was not only thoughts about that turn of events that kept sleep at bay; it was everything she had learned about Mr. Darcy's character over the course of six days; and her changing regard for the man. She knew that he must retain some of his good will towards her or he would not have put his own life on the line for her the previous evening. But what she could not comprehend was if he had done it because he still loved her (most ardently) or if his actions were because he felt responsible for the event that lead to all the ones that followed after.

She was most anxious the following morning to see him; she told herself that it was only because she did not want to him to leave without her thanking him for his most chivalrous act. Deep down, she knew the truth was that she did not want him to leave at all. She hoped that perhaps he would speak to Mr. Bingley and that perchance a wedding between his closest friend and her sister would put them in each others sphere once again, but as there was no guarantee of any of that occurring; it made her sad to think she might never cross paths with Mr. Darcy again.

To her further disappointment, when Colonel Fitzwilliam was announced at the parsonage that morning, he had come alone. Mrs. Collins welcomed him and offered to ring for refreshments, but he said he could not stay long as they were to leave in one and a half hours. Looking over at Lizzy, he saw what he thought to be in tears in her eyes, so he got down to the true business for which he had come.

"Miss Bennet, I believe my cousin had felt that since you had been forced to endure his company for so many days, that he did not wish to intrude on you any further." Richard himself had attempted to persuade his cousin to come along for the visit; but Fitzwilliam was certain that his presence would not be wanted.

Lizzy shook her head, "It would not have been an intrusion; I had wished to speak with him."

Richard smiled at her, warmly, "In that case, he left the house earlier and I believe, knowing him as I do, that I can take you where he has gone if you wish"

"Yes, I would very much like to go there, if you are certain that it would not be an imposition?" Lizzy looked over at Charlotte for a moment, whose smile encouraged her. "You are certain you know where he is?" she asked, turning back to the Colonel.

"It is a favorite place of his, always has been since his mother used to bring him there. He does a lot of thinking, reading and probably daydreaming at that very spot every time we come to Rosings." Richard told her as the left the cottage.

The path he led her on was very familiar and she realized with a start that they were making their way to the building where Mr. Darcy had offered her his hand, almost a week before. A thought made it's way to her mind that quite possibly his coming upon her then had been an accident, that he had not followed her there, as she had assumed, but had only wished to be alone to think.

Darcy leaned against a building (the same building that Lizzy had rested against nearly a week before), his eyes stared straight ahead to the meadow in front of him; the sun was getting warm and was on his face. He too, had not slept well; not because of the business with his Aunt's murderer or even because of the revelation that Richard loved Anne (of which he'd had no idea); no he could not sleep for thinking about what his future might hold. It seemed rather bleak. He did not want to leave Rosings and the company of Miss Bennet as he had no idea when or if he might see her again. He felt for the front of his jacket pocket, where he knew (because he had put them there) were two sealed letters; one for her and one for Mr. Bingley. He had used his sleepless night to write a missive to Miss Bennet about Wickham and tried to explain why he had separated Charles from her sister Jane. The letter to Mr. Bingley, he hoped would right the wrong he had inadvertantly caused; he could only pray that Charles would eventually forgive him for his part in it.

He shut his eyes against the rays of the sun and might have stayed that way a while longer had not the noise of someone clearing their throat startled him and his eyes flew open to see two people standing a few feet in front of him. He had to shield his eyes against the sun rays to see that it was his cousin Richard and Miss Bennet. The Colonel, having completed his mission, stepped away staying close enough to remain in the duty of a chaperone, but not quite near enough to hear whatever words might be spoken between the two.

Mr. Darcy looked at Elizabeth; he noticed that her eyes were red, though whether from lack of sleep or the shedding of tears, he could not tell.

"You were planning to leave and not say goodbye?" she asked him, clearly agitated.

"I was sure you had your fill of me." he said, looking away from her and and back towards the meadow; as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. He was sure that if she were able to look in his eyes she would be able to tell that his feelings for her were as ardent as ever.

"I wanted to thank you for yesterday." she told him, her voice full of emotion.

"I appreciate your gratitude, it was the least I could do considering it was my arrogance that had started everything to begin with." he replied, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. He was finding it increasingly difficult not to look at her, every thought inside his mind fairly shouted at him to do so.

Knowing that there was not a lot of time before he had to depart, Lizzy realized that she must be bolder than she presently felt. She could not let time run out and not say what she felt in her heart.

"Mr. Darcy, I have a confession to make." she admitted.

Darcy, still looking ahead could not tell by her tone, if she were teasing him. "Miss Bennet, I believe the time for confessions has passed," he answered, trying to sound non-chalant in case that she was.

"It is not a confession for that, sir." If her words did not turn his eyes in her direction, as she had hoped, her next sentence most certainly did, "I overheard a conversation that you and the Colonel had one day in the library."

She watched as Darcy's face registered recognition of which conversation she must have overheard. He looked at her more fully then, aghast at what she must have heard, specifically about Georgiana and Wickham.

"I did not mean to, sir. I was in the the smaller room when you entered, I did not wish to bother you." she said, apologetically. She felt her face get hot with embarrassment and knew that tears were threatening to fall.

"But I overheard it all the same," she continued, "I know all about what Wickham has done and your motives concerning Mr. Bingley. You are not arrogant."

He was staring at her now, his eyes wide at the words she was using in relation to him, starting to feel in all ways hopeful.

As for Lizzy, she allowed her eyes to search his face as she spoke to him, noting to herself how very handsome he was. "You are not conceited; and most of all as you proved last night...you do not have selfish disdain for the feelings of others, you are in every way a gentleman of the best kind." Her tears fell freely and she did nothing to stop them. "I have so woefully misunderstood you and I am deeply ashamed."

Normally she might have looked away after such an admission; but she found herself unable to tear her gaze from his face. She knew she must look a fright; surely her face was all wet from crying, what must he think, she wondered?

She could not know that at that exact moment, he found himself wishing that he could cradle her face with his hands and kiss her tears away; but instead he produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed her cheeks with it. Lizzy closed her eyes to his touch and when she re-opened them, he was staring at her with such love; she could not help but smile in return. Feeling encouraged, he closed the gap between their faces and brushed her lips softly with his own. Breaking away a lot sooner than either might have wanted, he took her hands into his and held them, feeling her fingers curl around his tightly, as if she never wished to let go.

"Miss Elizabeth," he asked, swallowing hard, "When Mr. Bingley and I return to Hertfordshire, I would very much like to come to Longbourn with the express purpose of calling on you, if that would be agreeable."

She smiled at him again; "You may."

Darcy glanced over to where his cousin Richard stood pretending to survey a rose bush (that no doubt Mr. Mason had planted). Turning back to Elizabeth, he pulled her into his arms, pressed his lips to her forehead and held her. Feeling a joy she had never known, she found that her arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. Of course, because he was every bit the gentleman that she had only just told him that he was, he let go of her after a few minutes. Lizzy felt the absence of his arms around her immediately.

"Mr. Darcy," she asked him, in a decidedly playful manner, "how soon do you think that you and Mr. Bingley might return to Hertfordshire?"

"As soon as we possibly can, Miss Bennet." He answered, smiling sweetly at her, wondering how he would ever be able to tear himself away long enough to call on Mr. Bingley, much less see Collins to the courthouse in London.

Taking her hand back in his, he led her over to where Richard stood (trying to pretend he wasn't aware of all that was transpiring), and the three of them headed back to Rosings, and to the rest of their lives.

**An Epilogue of Sorts-**

The rest of the story would follow along mostly as we know it; Charles and Jane would be reunited and would marry in a double ceremony with Elizabeth and Darcy.

As for the everyone else—When Lady Catherine's will was read, it came as no surprise that she left all to her only daughter Anne with the stipulation that she would receive it upon her marriage to her cousin-what was a shock was that she had not specified which cousin. It appeared as if Mrs. DeBourgh had been so certain that Darcy shared her wishes, she did not bother to name him outright. Whatever the case, it enabled Richard to propose to Anne, which she accepted. She continued to improve both in health and disposition until no one could quite remember what it was that had kept her so weak and delicate in the first place.

One of her first duties as mistress of Rosings, was to let Mr. Mason go; she did not like his sneaky ways and did not wish to retain his services. However, Miss Anne had insisted that Charlotte stay on at the estate and gave her a private wing entirely for her own use; she very much liked the lady's friendship and felt an even stronger tie to her since Mrs. Collins had confessed to the crime thereby negating Miss DeBourgh's confession. Charlotte, not wanting to be a burden to her family, and genuinely appreciative of Miss Anne's offer, accepted it heartily. She would eventually become something of a great aunt to the Fitzwilliam children.

Collins was found guilty and sent to the America's where no one heard from him again.

Mr. Bennet was warned about that rogue Mr. Wickham and kept his younger daughters away from him , despite complaints from Lydia.

Wickham met his end when his dueling pistol was slower than the one held by a furious father of an underage lass that George had compromised.

Georgiana was thrilled to attain so many sisters when her brother married Elizabeth, with Lizzy being her favorite of all. She and Kitty formed a fast friendship and eventually they married two brothers, in a double ceremony just as Jane and Elizabeth had done. Lydia married a military officer and settled down as much as was possible for her. As for Mary, she did not marry and did not think less of herself for it. She stayed with the Darcy's during the winter months and with the Bingley's during the summer; she quite enjoyed being around her nieces and nephews but never felt the desire for any children of her own.

And coming back full circle to Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, they enjoyed a few years of marital bliss all to themselves; until the children came along-two boys and a girl-all apples of their father's eyes (especially the girl, who was the spitting image of her mother). One might say it is only in fairy tales that two people can live happily ever after and perhaps it is true, but our Elizabeth and her Mr. Darcy-they sure came pretty close!

_The End. _

_Although, as we know in Fanfic land, there really is no end, the adventures go on and on. _

_Maybe it says something that I liked this chapter so much I even read it a few times after I wrote it and smiled at it myself! LOL_

_I have had a ball writing this for you and I have enjoyed every review I have had the pleasure to read. I loved your comments and I looked forward to them after every chapter (I'm going to miss that). I hadn't written a P & P story in three years and I was a bit worried that I'd lost my touch...thanks for your kind words, they really brought my confidence back up._


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